


Smile

by Oberyn2206



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Family, Family Fluff, Gen, Graf has a grandchild, Graf needs more love, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 19:26:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16047002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oberyn2206/pseuds/Oberyn2206
Summary: She did not get it, what was so funny about her promise that made the count laugh. But at least, she had caught one of the hardest moments to catch. Her grandfather had smiled.





	Smile

The sun had eventually hidden behind the mountain range, left the silver moon alone shining bright between thousands of stars in the darkness. By a window of the magnificent Krolock castle, sat a little vampire. Five days in a row had always been the same, she would always sat there, bright blue orbs observed the falling white snow in awe.

The girl was called Matilda, merely a child who had just passed her toddler age. She was not much more than three feet tall, and had not got used to anything or anyone except her fathers. Though having lived in a foster home located somewhere she never knew among crowded cities of Romania, Matilda seemed to show great fond of the remote mountains of Transylvania where she would stay with her fathers until she at least reached her adult age. The mountains were no blissful green hills bloomed with colourful flowers like in fairy-tales, the mountains were only black and white, cold and gloomy, yet it was quite peaceful, and Matilda enjoyed nights on her fathers’ backs while they were watching the moon rise.

“Papas are going now”, her father – Viscount Herbert von Krolock – hugged her from behind and kissed her head, which made her giggle, his cape loosely wrapped by her sides. She playfully struggled between his arms, tugged under the cape. Papa Herbert’s splendid lavender cape was one of the only colourful and lively things ever existed in the castle.

“Will you come home soon?” Matilda asked the question she had been asking all along the while again.

“Only a few days, sweetie.” Herbert smiled reassuringly, though he knew he himself would miss her so much in the short time to come. “Be a good girl, will you?”

Herbert didn’t know why his daughter’s face suddenly fell. The little girl pouted and chewed on her lips, her brows deeply lined in thought as she darted her eyes away.

“Must I stay here alone with grandpa?” She whispered, as if she scared she would be heard. Herbert, in contrast, understood, and he had but laughed softly.

“You are still afraid of grandpa, aren’t you?”

The girl nodded. There was something prevented her from daring talk to grandpa or at least look at him with a straight face. Grandpa was as tall as a giant while Matilda herself was so tiny, while his voice, she found, were like thunders rumbling behind the clouds, all of which reminded her of the evil deities described in myths that people told at night. Grandpa never smiled, either, she noticed.

“It’s all alright, sweetie.” Herbert  cooed, rubbing his daughter’s hair playfully. “You have aunt Sarah here to take care of you, and there’s even Koukol. Lady Magda would also love it if you paid her a visit at the village after sunset.” His grin widened at the girl’s squeak when she heard of the old hunchback’s name.

“But grandpa doesn’t look happy.” Matilda mumbled.

“Don’t worry. Grandpa loves you as much as we do. You will see there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Words only wouldn’t ever work at all, Herbert knew, but that was all he could come up with when it was about time to go and Alfred was calling for him. Time would do, he believed his father and his daughter would eventually get along well with each other, and they all got plenty of time to spare. The girl was still only a little child, her fear of an imposing and aloof vampire lord was merely a matter of fact, so now it was his father who had to prove to Matilda that he was no monster under the bed that could harm her at any moment.  

 

The snow kept falling and falling, leaving thick layers of white on the rocky ground of the Transylvania mountains. Matilda decided to close the window when the wind started to scream instead of going on with its songs, and left her favourite spot to wander along the long corridors and large halls of the castle.

Herbert and Alfred had brought Matilda to the castle’s giant library before, and to their expect, she was also as into poems as they did. She couldn’t read or write, but she enjoyed hearing Alfred’s angelic voice reading poems or bedtime stories to her. She didn’t like the musty smell of the old books, but she loved feeling her fingertips on the rough yellow papers, humming songs along as she tried to explain to herself what those curves and straight lines and those funny symbols in black ink meant.

The big armchair in the library had always attracted Matilda. It was huge, with a carving frame so gorgeous, and the thick velvet mattress on it looked so soft and comfy that she wished she could climb on and sink into it. It was grandpa’s favourite chair. Though grandpa was tall and like a giant to Matilda, the little vampire noticed that he was lean enough to have a space spare whenever he sat on the armchair, but she never gained enough courage to ask him if she could fall into that small pit next to him.

But now there was no one in the library. Trying using the chair for a few moments might not do any bad. She wouldn’t mess anything up, Matilda promised to herself, she would only try enjoying the feeling of soft velvet covering her just one time, just this time, and then she would leave everything at its original status.

By that thought, Matilda climbed onto the big armchair, dived into the sensation she had been dreaming of.

 

A child was, after all, a child, and curiosity was another matter of fact. There was an old notebook laying on the table, on top of some other books, right in front of her. It had an elegant leather cover, clean from dust unlike many other books, bonded with ropes along one side. She had the urge to search through it right there and then, but hesitated. “Papas say peeping is not good.” She reminded herself. Her fingers touched the cover, then withdrew, then touched the cover again, and then withdrew again. “But this is a library. Books in library are supposed to be read!” She fought back her own thought.

Eventually, she took the notebook off the pile and opened it.

Sketches and doodles in black ink appeared in front of her, made the little girl round her eyes in fascination. There were messy sketches of black cats, of bats, and many other nocturnal creatures with great details that they looked so lively, so realistic. There were even lots of creatures she had not seen before, and even if she had, she wouldn’t have had the chance to observe them distinctly like this. Pages after pages kept being turned with interest, until Matilda reached the page of vampire drawings. She giggled in joy when she realized this was papa Herbert and that was papa Alfred, and there was aunt Sarah in her gorgeous ball dress. Matilda wondered who had drawn all these masterpieces, one day she would learn to draw as well as this.

And just like that, Matilda reached the end of the notebook.

Matilda had no clue who was the woman drawn in the last pages, the pages that had colours beside black and white. She had never seen her in the castle before, but she was one of the most beautiful women Matilda had ever seen, so beautiful that it seemed she didn’t belong to Earth at all. Her hair was silver-like, flowing like a gentle stream of river down her shoulders. She owned the orbs of the shining stars, the soft yet piercing green eyes were so familiar, but Matilda couldn’t explain.  

Panic was the obvious reaction when the little girl accidentally knocked the ink bottle down on the table, the jet black liquid flowed and was absorbed in the papers. The last drawings were ruined, the images disappeared into blackness and she could not know any way to restore them. The little girl could only stared in fright at the mess she had created and, in a flick of her mind, prayed that her grandpa wouldn’t come until she had gone.

 

“There you are.”

 

Matilda’s grandfather, Count von Krolock, had already been at the door, staring at her. She choked back a whimper, smudging hands quickly hidden behind her back. But her nervous expression could never be hidden, and the count had no difficulty realizing it. No words were said as he quickened his paces towards the table, and his face fell grave at her.

“I’m s-sorry…” She babbled, looking down. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Do you know what you’ve done?”

“I’m sorry, grandpa.” She started to sniff, as she felt that the count, despite his usual cold look, was furious. “I’m honest, I didn’t…”

“Do you know what you’ve done?” He repeated.

“I-I didn’t…”

“Go back to your room.” He ordered sharply after a sigh.

“But… I’m sorry…”

“Go back to your room. I want you to think carefully about what you have done.”

 

The little girl could not hold back her tears as she remember those furious red eyes of the count looking at her, piercing dangerously like a pair of daggers. She was scared, was terrified, so terrified. She trembled to her crying as she held onto Sarah, while the later stroke her hair, soothing the little kid. Sarah had found the little girl sobbing in a corner, and she wondered what had made the child miserable like that.

“I want papas back!” Matilda whined between her tears. “I don’t want to be with grandpa! Grandpa is mean!”

“Hush, my darling. Hush. Don’t say that.” Sarah stroke the child’s cheeks gently, wiping her tears until she finally had stopped crying. “Grandpa loves you!”

“No! He didn’t listen to me!” She whined. “It was only an accident, but grandpa didn’t listen…”

“Grandpa is a generous one.” Sarah said softly. “He only wanted to teach you. He doesn’t hate you a bit. Trust me.”

Matilda didn’t reply anymore, but she tossed about on the bed and turned her back to Sarah, still sniffing. She was still mad at grandfather, she wanted her fathers back. Fathers wouldn’t look at her like that. Fathers would listen to her.

“Matilda…”

The little vampire was still pouting.

“Matilda.” Sarah sighed. “I know you are upset. But grandpa doesn’t hate anyone in his family. The notebook being ruined was an accident, but that notebook might had something meaningful to grandpa very much.”

“I don’t care.” Matilda huffed.

“Darling, if I, accidentally or not, tore off your favourite doll, would you be crossed at me?”

The little girl then stared at her drag doll on the nightstand. Most adults despised it for being hideous, but it was her only friend for years at the foster. It gave her comfort, and listened to her secrets without revealing them to anyone else. She thought she would explode with anger if someone came and tore it into pieces. She was more than happy when fathers allowed her to keep it. By that, Matilda finally whispered, yet not facing Sarah:

“Yes…”

“Then now you know how grandpa feels. You may not understand now, but one day you’ll learn that grandpa has many miseries than you think…”

“That’s why grandpa never smiles?” Matilda innocently asked.

“Grandpa does smile, but it’s hard to catch those moments.” Sarah curled up her lips in a sly smile, fingers stroking the little girl’s hair. “And now, accidentally or not, you have ruined something he loves so much. It was you who have to meet him and say sorry.”

“But he didn’t listen…” Matilda hiccuped.

“I believed he had thought about it and calmed down right now. He would listen to you.”

“So, I have to go to the library to meet him now?”

“You promised with papas to be a good child, didn’t you?” Sarah encouraged with a wink.

 

On the big armchair in the library, sat Count von Krolock. His long hair was flowing down, followed the direction of his head, as he concentrated on the papers in front of his eyes. He was quiet and grave, so absorbed in his work that he didn’t notice the creaking sound of the door when Matilda entered the room. Even if he did, he never showed it. As the little vampire slowly came closer, she spotted he was holding a small blade, his long and bony fingers, with movements like a master, were scraping the ink from the drawing paper bit by bit.

Matilda stood there, waiting, for fear of interrupting her grandfather’s work. Only when she knew he had finished, she started to mumble, her voice was small like the meow of a kitten.

“Grandpa… I’m sorry, for damaging your book… It was an accident. I’m sorry.”

Matilda only dared to glance up a bit, just to see the count’s red eyes again, though this time they didn’t hold the anger anymore, but something like sadness, as if he had been crying as well. He let out a long sigh, but no words escaped, and Matilda’s eyes darted back down on her feet.

 

“Are you cold?”

 

The sudden question startled Matilda, and she jolted her head up. Only at that moment that she realized, she was slightly trembling from the cold air of winter, even though there was a fireplace nearby. The count’s gaze had softened, focusing on her, and he spread his cape on the spare space on the armchair.

“Come here.” The count prompted. As the girl still hesitated, he assured. “If it were your father Herbert, he wouldn’t say no.”

Matilda blinked her eyes in dumbfound. She never knew her father could be… clingy like that. Her mind built up a mental image of her father when he was a little boy, climbing up on the chair with the count and sniveling for bedtime stories, while he curled up in the warm cape.

The cape of grandpa was not colourful or had sparkles like papa Herbert’s cape, instead, it only had one colour of the deep dark night on the outside and a dark bordeaux colour of wine on the inside. But it was soft and warm as well, and when Matilda snuggled under it, the count gently wrapped it around her like a comfortable cocoon. She never expected that her grandpa would be so gentle like this.

“Do you know who this is?” The count hold the drawings that had been surprisingly restored down to his lap, showing to his granddaughter the woman she had been wondering about. Matilda just shook her head. The count explained: “This is your grandmother. Herbert’s mother.”

Matilda rounded her eyes in awe at the words. She touched the paper again, tracing the lines of the woman’s face and hair. “Where is she, grandpa?”

“She passed away centuries ago.” The count sighed. “Herbert was only at your age.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Matilda softened her voice. Now she understood why the count treasured the drawing pieces so much. He must have loved grandma so much. “She’s so beautiful.” She said.

“Herbert takes after her lots more than me.” The count’s long fingers traced on the drawing as he said. “Her hair, her frame, and…”

“Her eyes.” Matilda piped in, for she had found the answer for why those bright green eyes were so familiar. The count raised an eyebrow looking at her, and he hummed in approval.

“And also her stubborn character.”

Matilda couldn’t hold back her giggles at the comment.

“There were so few pictures of her left.” The count continued. “I draw her whenever I can. I don’t want to forget her face. And I don’t want Herbert to do so, either.”

“I don’t want to, too.” Matilda said, and her missing tooth made she lisp. “When I’ve learned how to draw, I will redraw the pictures that I ruined for you, grandpa.”

Matilda did not get it, what was so funny about her promise that made the count laugh. But at least, she had caught one of the hardest moments to catch. Her grandfather had smiled.


End file.
